Consider Your Compromises
Note: The content of this article is presented in audio format, including dramatized examples, in the podcast episode: Perspectives on Compromises: The Fog & the Light.
Written by Tim Tedder
We had grown closer during the weeks we were paired on a work project. I enjoyed being around her, and it seemed she felt the same. So that morning, alone in the studio, it felt natural to joke a little more, to tease a bit. When I reached out and touched her shoulder as we laughed, my hand stayed there longer than it needed to.
We looked at each other, smiling. In the fog of that moment, I told myself there was nothing wrong with enjoying a new connection. Our closeness was harmless. This was what friendships looked like, I reasoned. We weren’t saying anything explicit. We weren’t doing anything overtly inappropriate. What was the harm?
Looking back now, I’m sure of one thing: if my wife had suddenly walked into that room, my posture would have changed instantly. And that tells me something significant. I already knew, on some level, that my behaviour bent the promise I had made to love her faithfully and protect our marriage. But on that day, I wasn’t looking at it in that light.
The Fog of Self-Justification vs the Light of Love’s Promise
Most affairs don’t begin with a dramatic moment. They start with something small—a conversation, a shared laugh, a spark of attention that feels harmless. In those early moments, it rarely feels like danger. It feels exciting. It feels like connection.
And when we experience something like that, we instinctively reach for justification. We try to explain it in a way that lets us focus on the feeling without considering the consequences. That’s when the Fog rolls in.
I call it the fog of self-justification: that soft, reassuring haze that settles around our choices, convincing us they aren’t really a problem. And in the earliest days of an affair, or the slow drift toward one, the Fog can feel like comfort.
But there is another way of seeing the same choices. A clearer way, without rationalizations. A way that gently reveals the truth.
I call this the light of love’s promise: the perspective that shines on our actions and asks how well they reflect the love we vowed to give.
Both the Fog and the Light consider the same moment. Both interpret it. Both give us a story about what we’re doing.
One perspective justifies.
The other clarifies.
The one we choose to move in often determines whether we move toward betrayal or toward integrity.
The Fog of Self-Justification
If you’ve read Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me), you already know how skilled the human brain is at protecting our self-image. We hate feeling like the “bad guy,” so when a behavior threatens the story we want to tell about ourselves, the brain gets creative. It blurs lines. It renames motives. It smooths away the sharp point of conviction.
The Fog doesn’t accuse, it excuses. It reassures. It whispers things like:
“Relax… nothing bad is happening.”
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling good.”
“This connection is harmless.”
“You deserve to feel appreciated.”
The Fog is a progressive pattern of self-justification that clouds perception and distorts reality. It numbs our awareness of the consequences we’re setting in motion.
The Light of Love’s Promise
The Light does something different. It illuminates. It shines on the moment and asks a question that cuts through haze: “If your partner were witnessing this moment, would it honor the way you promised to love them?”
The Light reminds us that love is not just a feeling, it’s a choice—the guarding of a commitment. And every thought, word, or act either secures your promise or strains it.
The Light clarifies what the Fog tries to hide: a compromise is not just a small step; it is one step of many that moves us away from integrity.
The Progression of Compromise
Nobody wakes up one morning and decides to dismantle their integrity.
Affairs unfold in steps that are usually subtle at first, then increasingly obvious. But we have a choice with each of those steps. We can either walk in the Fog or the Light.
The Fog offers assuring explanations. The Light reveals the truth.
Let’s explore some common scenarios.
Personal Conversations
It often starts here: a conversation with someone who listens well, understands your frustrations, or offers validation you’ve been missing.
The View in the Fog: “This is innocent. I’m just venting. They’re easy to talk to. This helps me feel grounded.” The Fog frames the exchange as practical and harmless.
The View in the Light: “Why am I giving pieces of my emotional world to this person? Would my partner consider this a safe exchange?”
Emotional openness is not neutral. It’s bonding. And bonding outside your committed relationship is usually a breach of trust.
“Harmless” Flirting
A joke. A compliment. A spark. An encounter that brightens the day in a way you don’t want to examine too closely.
The View in the Fog: “This is just my personality. I’m naturally friendly. No boundaries are being crossed.” Flirting is recast as personality rather than intimacy.
The View in the Light: “If my partner heard this exchange, would it feel honoring to them? Or would it signal that I’m offering emotional energy that belongs in our relationship?” Flirting isn’t about words; it’s about intention, and intention is where drift begins.
Secret Keeping
Deleting a message. Leaving out a detail. Guarding your phone. Giving a false account.
The View in the Fog: “I’m just avoiding conflict. They would misunderstand. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Secrecy is reframed as safety, even mercy.
The View in the Light: “If truth is safe, why am I hiding it? If this were inconsequential, why the need for privacy?” Secrets don’t become harmless because they’re hidden. The hiding is what makes them harmful.
Emotional Connection
Reaching out for comfort, affirmation, or validation from someone who is not your partner.
The View in the Fog: “This connection helps me cope. I feel seen. I feel alive.” It sounds therapeutic, even healthy.
The View in the Light: “I’m outsourcing emotional needs that my relationship was meant to hold.” Dependence is the precursor to attachment, and attachment outside the relationship reshapes everything.
Seeking Proximity
Finding reasons to be near the person. Engaging in longer conversations. Positioning yourself closer in a meeting or social setting.
The View in the Fog: “We just enjoy each other’s company. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Pleasure becomes justification.
The View in the Light: “I’m moving my body in ways that align with desire instead of commitment.” Proximity is not an accident. It’s an instinct. And instincts build momentum.
Digital Intimacy
Late-night messaging. Inside jokes. Shared photos. Reassurance. Attention.
The View in the Fog: “It’s only digital. Nothing physical is happening.” Screens are considered buffers instead of invitations.
The View in the Light: “Digital closeness is still personal closeness. Emotional secrecy is still secrecy. I hide these things because I know they contradict the commitment I made.” The Light sees the truth: Affairs begin in messages more often than they begin in arms.
Physical Intimacy
A touch that lingers. A moment that stretches. A kiss that was somehow “unexpected” even though it was anticipated.
The View in the Fog: “I didn’t plan this. I couldn’t help it. It just happened.” The Fog reframes intention as accident.
The View in the Light: “This moment is the sum of many earlier choices—each one justified, each one minimized.” It didn’t “just happen.” It was the next step in a progression.
The Rationalized Affair
Once the affair becomes undeniable, the Fog tries to rewrite the entire story, from past to present.
The View in the Fog:
“This is real love.”
“I’ve never felt like this.”
“My marriage was already broken.”
“I deserve happiness.”
These reflections feel profound and honest, but they are built on distortions that hide reality and responsibility.
The View in the Light: “You’re rewriting history to justify the present. You’re asking your partner to live with the consequences of decisions made solely by you, even though your relationship was established with a shared commitment.” The Light isn’t cruel. It’s simply clear.
One or the Other
The Fog numbs guilt, but it also numbs awareness. Under its cover, we drift further from authenticity. We become divided people: one version of ourselves for the public, another for the secret space. And the consequences increase long before they're visible.
The Light is not the enemy of desire or connection. It’s the guardian of trust. It offers:
A clear view of integrity
A path to restore safety before damage multiplies
A focus on the partner you promised to love
A return to the person you wanted to be
Most importantly, the Light gives us a way back long before we reach catastrophe.
A Question to Guide Every Choice
“If a light were shining on this choice, would it look like the love I promised? Would my partner agree?”
This question cuts through Fog every time. If there are problems in your committed relationship, keep your promise by addressing them instead of ignoring them or making secret substitutes.
And if you’ve wandered into the Fog, you don’t have to stay there. The Light is always available—in the honest question, the brave conversation, the decision to be faithful instead of rationalizing again. One step at a time.
Fog & Light Exercise: a free, helpful exercise for anyone who might be wandering into the fog, or who fears their spouse might be doing so.
